


Consistently Inconsistent (Deleted Scenes)

by teal_always



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Additional scenes, Alternate Universe, Deleted Scenes, F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teal_always/pseuds/teal_always
Summary: Additional pieces of my other works.(Complete... for now.)
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 79
Kudos: 157





	1. If You're Wondering If I Want You To

**Author's Note:**

> Here are a few "deleted" or additional scenes for some of my fics, if anyone wants them. For the most part, they either didn't fit or I felt the fics ended better where I ended them. But I think they had pieces of ideas that add to the works themselves, so here they are. Each chapter title will be the title of the fic to which the scene belongs.
> 
> Title from “Middle of Nowhere” by Hot Hot Heat

“The caramel apple line is the longest, we’ll go get in it and you can grab the kettle corn since Bash made it  _ very _ clear that that’s the only reason he’s coming,” Anne said with amusement as Gilbert rolled his eyes fondly.

“He’s the one running late this time but I suppose I’ll save myself from his grousing.” Gilbert leaned down to kiss Anne’s cheek before she was tugged away by her nine-year-old towards the bright red booth across the way.

Settling into his own line, just barely shorter than the other, Gilbert let a deep inhale of warm sugar fill his nose, unable to remember the last time he’d attended something like this.

Autumn had begun, just a touch of summer still lingering in the air, and it seemed the whole county had decided on an impromptu celebration. He didn’t know if this event was new or a tradition he had just missed out on, but he was enjoying himself either way. The whole field before him had been transformed into a fall-themed festival with a maze, games, and plenty of delicious-smelling food. It was the kind of thing he would have tried to attend with Dellie and her parents if he had the time but was definitely an event he couldn’t miss now that he was officially a doctor and didn’t have quite as many night shifts, and also because of the extremely earnest invitation from one Cordelia Shirley Cuthbert Gardner.

Standing in his own line, wondering if a bag of kettle corn would even survive until his brother’s arrival, Gilbert looked over across the crowd that littered the causeway and was very appreciative that the duo he was aiming to find were so easy to identify by one of his favorite aspects about them. As he watched Anne lean down to listen to something Cordelia was saying, he felt someone enter the line behind him.

“Gilbert Blythe?”

Startled, Gilbert turned to the man who suddenly reached out to clap a hand to Gilbert’s shoulder once he confirmed that yes, he was Gilbert Blythe, and that somehow meant this back-slapping thing was a welcome move.

Gilbert’s eyebrows went up before dipping back down when he couldn’t immediately put a name to the somewhat familiar face. It took him a moment, during which the other man almost refused to be of any help as he looked at Gilbert expectantly, but it finally clicked.

“Billy Andrews?” Gilbert asked but knew that was right as soon as it reluctantly left his mouth.

“Yeah, man, good to see you,” Billy said, blatantly ignoring personal space as he clapped Gilbert on the shoulder again before taking his hand back. “How’ve you been, buddy?”

“Oh, uh, good. Great, actually,” Gilbert said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he deliberately shifted back as the line moved forward. “I just finished my residency. So I’m trying to get in a full day with my family, you know how it is.”

“You actually did all that doctor shit, huh,” Billy said, looking as if he was torn between derision and being somewhat impressed.

“Yup,” Gilbert said, pressing his lips together as he glanced around the festivities around them, willing to even pull a clown or something into a conversation to get out of this one.

Apparently something heard his pleas because, instead of something creepy like a clown, a child arrived to save him, it seemed.

“Gilbert!”

Gilbert looked down as Cordelia skidded to a halt before him.

“Yes, princess? Where are those apples?” Gilbert asked, reaching down to adjust the crown he had bought her upon their arrival (to add to her growing collection, Anne had critiqued). 

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak but realized a stranger was watching her and clammed up. Obediently, Gilbert squatted down to be more on her level as she gestured him closer so she didn’t have to speak up in front of Billy.

“Mommy’s still in line but said I could go look at the games while we wait for Dellie. But I wanted to see them make the popcorn first,” she said, pointing to the booth for which they were in line.

“You want me to hold you up so you can see?” Gilbert asked and returned her nod with a firm one of his own. He stood and picked her up from under her arms so she could see above the rest of the line and the booth counter to the giant cauldron-like pot a teenager stirred the fresh kettle corn. Gilbert let her down once she wiggled to be freed.

“You’ll get enough to share?” she asked, looking up at him at an angle that made him have to adjust her crown again lest it fall off.

“We’re sharing all the goodies. I’m sure Mary will want to try some of the pie they’re selling over there too. Here,” Gilbert said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few bills to hand her. “Play a few games but save some to play with Dellie. They should be here soon.”

Cordelia grinned, curtseying as she thanked him before running off to a nearby booth filled with bright prizes.

Gilbert made sure she arrived at her destination and glanced forward to see that he was almost to the front of the line. He had almost forgotten about his unfortunate line associate when he made himself known again.

“Was that yours, Blythe?” Billy asked, looking unnecessarily scathing as he looked from where Cordelia had ran from and back to Gilbert.

Gilbert frowned at his tone of voice immediately as he looked back at Billy. “ _ She _ is my girlfriend’s daughter,” Gilbert said, debating the pros and cons of ditching the line and just coming back later despite being so close to the end. 

Deciding to ride it out, Gilbert looked over at the apple booth and gratefully met Anne’s gaze. She smiled over at him, giving a small wave that he returned, before adopting a frown just like his own a moment ago when she looked to his right and saw to whom he was speaking. She immediately wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something bad and pointedly turned back to face the front of the line.

Gilbert looked at Billy abruptly and found him looking like he had stepped in something gross as well.

“Do you know Anne?” Gilbert asked, his frown intensifying as he looked Billy up and down, an unpleasant feeling building in his gut as he took in the poorly aging man that he hadn’t seen in years.

“You’re dating that orphan girl, Blythe?” Billy asked cruelly, japping a thumb flippantly in Anne’s direction. “Small world, man. I never thought I’d see that mess again after we graduated high school. I couldn’t believe those Cuthberts took in a teenager like that, from God knows where! Not surprised she has a kid already, looks just like her too.”

Now, Gilbert had seen quite a lot of the unpleasantness of the world, some at a too-young age. But never before this moment had he understood the idea of seeing red when angered. He felt it was only his maturity (and the number of children around them at the festival) that forced him to take a deep breath and grind his teeth in order to stop himself from doing anything rash.

Instead, he simply stared at the man before him as his incredulity grew.

“Are you purposefully saying shit to get yourself punched or are you not even aware of what’s coming out of your mouth?” Gilbert asked, fully serious as he took in the idiotic face of Billy Andrews.

Obviously not understanding him, Billy laughed, punching Gilbert’s shoulder playfully and ignoring the way Gilbert pulled his body away from him. 

“You must know something I don’t, Blythe,” Billy chuckled. “Don’t know how a dude could play dad with some other guy’s kid. Seems unnatural to me.”

Gilbert found himself simply blinking at Billy, almost unable to comprehend whatever nonsense was just said. Hearing a throat clear behind him, Gilbert spun around, handled the booth attendant exact change, took his two large bags of popcorn, and turned back.

“Billy,” Gilbert said, deadpan. “If your parents could tell you they love you with a straight face, it shouldn’t be too inconceivable to understand how I could love a kid that’s not mine biologically.”

Again, Billy didn’t seem to immediately grasp the insult thrown at him, but Gilbert just began walking away. As he turned around, he found Anne right there, a tray of apples in her hand. He immediately hooked her arm with his and pulled her away, eager to leave behind whatever nonsense he had attracted in his innocent desire to provide his family with the sweet and salty delight of kettle corn.

Gilbert pulled them between the booths next to the game Cordelia was entranced with. He looked down at Anne and, for a split second, felt his stomach drop as her face contorted and her shoulder shook.

“Anne,” he started, arms too full of popcorn to reach out to her. But instead of letting out a sob, Anne leaned forward to press her face into his shoulder to muffle her giggles.

“His face!” Anne gasped, pulling back to look up at him, tears of laughter pooling in her eyes. “That doofus had no idea you just said his parents are lying about loving him because he’s such a fucking tool.”

“Ssh,” Gilbert tried to hush but didn’t succeed as he began laughing with her.

“How do you even know him?” Anne asked, trying to wipe her eyes with her free hand.

“I went to undergrad with him.” Gilbert rolled his eyes.

“I thought he flunked out?” Anne asked. “I was surprised he made it into a college at all, he was one of the worst boys I ever encountered when I started middle school after being adopted, and he never changed even in high school.”

“He did mention his parents being pretty well off. Constantly,” Gilbert said pointedly.

“Were you friends?” Anne asked incredulously.

“Let me rephrase,” Gilbert said, leaning down conspiratorially. “I had a few classes with him my freshman year. I then gave him a black eye at a party and never saw him again. Last I heard, he was kicked out for plagiarizing a paper, but he could’ve flunked, who knows.”

“You didn’t,” Anne giggled, glancing over her shoulder but obviously not seeing anyone who could overhear their gossiping.

“Had to. He put something in a girl’s drink,” Gilbert shrugged as Anne scoffed. “Probably a good thing he didn’t finish, no matter how he left.”

“As a teacher, I cannot condone fighting or a young, impressionable mind losing out on all a collegiate institute has to offer,” Anne began lofilty. But as soon as she met Gilbert’s eyes, she lost it again.

“Billy can be the exception,” Gilbert chuckled, grinning down at Anne as she laughed. 

“Hey there, what kind of trouble are you two causing?”

Gilbert looked up, still grinning, as Bash, Mary, Delphine, and Cordelia found them just off the main thoroughfare. 

“You made it! Caramel apple?” Anne asked, beaming as she held out her tray to the rest of their party.

“Sorry we’re late,” Mary said, tossing a look over her shoulder at Bash that just caused him to grin over at her.

“We’re right on time,” Bash corrected, throwing his arm over Gilbert’s shoulder as Anne produced another crown from her purse and bestowed it upon Delphine.

“Not likely,” Gilbert groused, ducking his head to hide his grin and evade the hand threatening to mess up his curls even further.

“What did I miss?” Bash asked pointedly, gesturing his head back out to the rest of the festival.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, feeling as if they’d get stuck just as his father used to warn. “Nothing, nothing. Just some… bro from college in the kettle corn line that wouldn’t know a paternal feeling if it bit him in the face.”

“Ah, Papa Gilbert had to show him how it’s done?” Bath whispered teasingly, his grin growing as he jostled Gilbert by his shoulder.

“Stuff it,” Gilbert mumbled, feeling his neck heat up as he tugged Bash’s hat down over his eyes.

“Boys, we’re going to the games, if you care to join us,” Mary said, raising an eyebrow at the pair as Anne smirked.

“Yes, dear,” Bash said immediately, shoving Gilbert aside to Delphine’s amusement as he went to join his wife. “Bring that corn, Blythe, I didn’t come all this way for you to lose it defending your girlfriend’s honor.”

Anne laughed as Gilbert shook his head, following Mary and Bash as they led the way, girls skipping in between. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this thing JUST to do Gilbert's epic burn @ Billy


	2. If You're Wondering If I Want You To

“Delphine told me to take a video if I ever catch you doing this.”

Gilbert spun around from the stove and pointed the wooden spoon he had been previously using as a microphone at the pre-teen who had suddenly appeared in the room.

“Don’t let Delphine Lacroix lure you into her blackmailing schemes, Cordelia. You’re meant to be the good influence here,” he said sternly over the music still playing from his phone.

Cordelia rolled her eyes as she hopped up onto the counter, braids swinging, the corner of her mouth twitching when Gilbert’s facade fell and he did the same.

“Too late now, I already sent her the Snap before you even realized I was there,” she shrugged, laughing as Gilbert threw a hand towel at her head.

“I’m immune to embarrassment anyway, it’s in the Uncle Handbook,” Gilbert said, reaching over to turn down his phone and then going back to stirring a pot.

Cordelia sat on the counter silently for a moment, the heels of her feet lightly banging against the lower cabinet doors.

“Have you been there?” she asked suddenly.

“Where?” Gilbert asked absently as he stirred at his attempt at dinner.

“What the song is saying,” Cordelia gestured towards his phone. “Amsterdam.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Actually yes. First time I’d been out of the country for a real vacation. Bash practically forced me to go, said it’d be good for me. I almost missed Dellie being born because she was a few weeks early.”

“I thought you and Mr. Bash had gone places?” Cordelia asked, continuing to kick her feet out from the counter.

“We did meet while traveling but that was through work,” Gilbert said as he looked closer at the pot he was stirring, shrugged, and turned off the burner. “Going to Amsterdam was the first time I could go somewhere and do whatever I want. That’s kind of what this song is about, I think. But it’s also about a break-up, which was also what happened to me at the time so it fits.”

“Someone broke up with you?” Cordelia asked curiously as the song changed.

“We both agreed it was best,” Gilbert defended as he moved things around on the stove. “Although I think I let her tell people she broke up with me, if I remember correctly.”

“Is breaking up hard?” Cordelia asked, leaning her weight onto her hand on the counter. She often asked random questions and Gilbert was definitely used to it. You couldn’t date a curious girl’s mother without being willing to answer most questions.

Gilbert huffed out a laugh as he stood back against the counter opposite Cordelia, crossing his arms. “Usually. Especially if someone doesn’t see it coming,” he shrugged. He always tried to answer her questions honestly if he could. She was a bright little girl and he knew the adults in her life needed to foster that. He and Anne were definitely on the same page on that.

“Do you think you and my mom will ever break up?”

Gilbert coughed in surprise as he looked at Cordelia who looked back at him as if she had asked a normal question like what was for dinner.

“Well,” he started, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I sure hope not.”

“So you’re going to get married.” Cordelia tilted her head as she made her statement, not a question.

Gilbert was glad he knew Cordelia so well because a lesser man may have been scared off by her questioning.

He cleared his throat as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, defaulting to his usual stance when his soul was prodded by a twelve-year-old.

“Well,” he said again. “That’s the idea—”

“Why haven’t you asked her then?” Cordelia asked nonchalantly, reaching up to fiddle with her necklace. “Didn’t Mr. Bash ask Miss Mary to marry him on their first date?”

“Not quite,” Gilbert chuckled, eyebrow raised. “Either way, I don’t think that would have gone over well with your mom, don’t you agree?”

Cordelia thought for a moment before humming in agreement. “Guess not. So when are you going to ask?”

“Are you trying to win a bet?” Gilbert asked wryly.

“No,” Cordelia said with an eyeroll. “I just— I was thinking about it. There’s this girl in Dellie’s class whose mom got remarried like right after her parents got divorced and she doesn’t like him that much.”

“That is tough,” Gilbert agreed, moving a few stray plates into the sink to clean later. “That’s why your mom and I waited a while before I moved in. And asked you first.”

“So what about proposing? Do you have to wait even longer?”

“Maybe. But we were also planning on talking to you about that too. Just because you were comfortable with me moving in doesn’t mean you agreed to that,” Gilbert said.

“So you wouldn’t get married if I said no?” Cordelia asked.

“We’d maybe see what the problem was and if we could fix it,” Gilbert allowed. “But we’re a three-person team here and everyone gets a vote.”

Cordelia hummed consideringly, tilting her head against her shoulder. “I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“I’m sure you’d get an invite to ours,” Gilbert said sarcastically and received a tongue stuck out at him in return. 

  
  



	3. a dark world aches for a splash of the sun

The door was not latched all the way, so it was just the minute squeak of the hinges that alerted Anne to its opening, not the doorknob turning. But it did not take much to wake Anne these days, no matter if the sounds echoing through the darkness are from inside the house or out. So, when Anne’s eyes opened like she hadn’t been asleep at all, they immediately went to the open space between the door and the frame where two large eyes stared back at her.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” Anne whispered, not moving from where she was curled up on her side, hands beneath her pillow and beside the knife that lived there under her head every night.

The pair of large eyes made a sound that usually was accompanied by a shrug, as taught to her by Pennie as soon as they began sharing Marilla’s old room. 

Anne sighed but lifted the edge of her blanket so Delphine could dive in. Once she did, the toddler crawled over Anne to fall into the space between her and Gilbert.

“We’re still sleeping,” Anne whispered, holding a finger to her lips so Delphine wouldn’t make a sound, even though Gilbert was still dead to the world. Anne rolled onto her other side as Delphine wiggled into a comfortable spot, probably still warm, and closed her eyes.

It had taken her a while to get fully used to sleeping in a house full of people, especially ones that didn’t always let her sleep alone in her bed, but it was much more comfortable than the packed dorms of the asylum had ever been. It didn’t hurt that her housemates seemed to like her much more than the other orphans ever did. And Anne’s younger self had never anticipated sharing a bed like this, with a boy that now lived in her room... and an occasional toddler. But that was the least surprising thing that had happened to her within the last few years. So she easily slipped back to sleep, knowing she had a bit more time before her presence in the world was required.

But, as always, even the quietest of sounds woke her. And it wasn’t much later that a light tapping against her door woke her again.

When she looked over, it was Mary, who seemed to be smirking at something over Anne’s shoulder. Turning her head, Anne found Gilbert, fast asleep on his back, with the tiny Delphine sprawled atop his chest, also completely oblivious to anything around her. Stifling a laugh, Anne silently slipped out of the bed and stepped into the hall with Mary, shaking her head in amusement.

“I hope she didn’t wake you,” Mary said, sounding resigned at her daughter’s inability to stay in her own bed even though she had been so excited to move into Pennie’s room. 

“As you can see, some of us aren’t stirred so easily,” Anne waved off, rolling her eyes a bit as Mary laughed through her nose.

“I suppose we’ll leave them to it then,” Mary said, amused. “I just came to tell you that Jerry is downstairs.”

“He told me he’d stop by. I asked him to show me how to shoot a bow, but I may regret it,” Anne said wryly. “Especially if he insists on starting lessons before the sun.”

“The sun is up,” Mary said with a smirk. “Just barely.”

“I’ll be down in a moment,” Anne huffed as she started to tug her hair out of her nighttime braids.

Neither Gilbert nor Delphine moved as Anne got dressed in her usual pants, this pair having once belonged to Gilbert before he grew out of them, and twisted her hair up and out of the way. She rolled her eyes at the sleeping duo as she left the room, only admitting to herself that the sight was actually pretty cute. 

She plucked a leftover dinner roll from the kitchen on her way out of the house, finding Jerry setting up a makeshift target on a nearby tree.

“ _ Bonjour _ ,” Jerry said, much too cheerfully for a time of day when the dew still clung to the grass around them.

“Shut up,” Anne mumbled through her bread.

“I came all this way, through woods and  _ monstres _ , just for you,” Jerry said, mock affronted.

“You came all this way so you can prove you’re better at something than me,” Anne said dryly.

“That also,” Jerry grinned as he tossed Anne a bow before beginning to explain the basics. 

As the morning wore on, and Anne had yet to hit anywhere close to the target nailed to the tree, Anne had to restrain herself and make the adult choice not to throw anything at Jerry’s head.

“He wants to marry you,” Jerry said, out of the blue, almost making Anne let go of the string too soon.

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Anne complained, letting out the air in her lungs and trying to position her elbow correctly, as Jerry had spent the last hour trying to correct.

“He told me,” Jerry continued.

“He’s told me too,” Anne said, letting the arrow loose and gasping when it actually hit somewhere on the target. “Yes!”

“He told Bash and Mary and Pennie…”

Anne blinked at the target before turning to look at Jerry, nose scrunched in confusion. “Pennie?”

Jerry shrugged, fiddling with an arrow. “He said he would talk to your family. Since he cannot talk to the Cuthberts,” he said carefully. 

Anne lowered her bow and looked away from Jerry, frowning into the tree line in front of her. 

“Do you not want to marry him?” Jerry asked, an edge to his tone.

Anne sighed. “It sounds nice,” she admitted. “But it’s a bit pointless, is it not? It won’t be real.”

“The Anne I know would ‘ave liked to have a wedding,” Jerry smirked.

Anne shot him a wry smile. “The Anne you knew never thought she would get anyone to marry her,” she informed him, looking back to the target and missing his frown. 

Later, Anne exited the kitchen with some food just in time to hear the end of the conversation Gilbert and Jerry were having for some reason.

“I’m doing it for her, not you,” Jerry said flatly, making Gilbert laugh.

“Doing what?” Anne asked as she walked up, handing a hardboiled egg to Jerry. 

“Bringing you baby chickens,” Jerry said smoothly.

“Oh! Great idea, we could use more eggs now that Dellie is eating more,” Anne said, looking over at Gilbert and catching him smiling at her. 

“Maybe we can convince you to waste some on a cake,” Gilbert suggested, his smile not leaving as she rolled her eyes.

  
  



	4. If I Am Silent, Then I Am Not Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very tiny peek at "Jackie vs. Avonlea" as requested.

Anne stepped out of the back room of her half of the schoolhouse and didn’t bat an eye at the sight of Jackie Stacy occupying one of the desks despite being much too large for its size. Anne was more than used to sudden appearances from this teenager, but any visits were usually accompanied by immediate questions and tales, not quiet moping. But Anne sat at her desk with her lunch, including her usual apple, and waited.

Halfway through her sandwich, Jackie’s own untouched on the bench beside them, they asked, “Do you want kids?”

Anne hummed as she carefully chewed her most recent bite, only answering after she finished. “I do now,” she said honestly, fidgeting with the ring on her finger as had become a habit as soon as it was given to her. 

“A real one or an adopted one?”

“An adopted one would be just as real,” Anne chastised gently before biting into her apple and taking her time to answer the rest of the question. “And I’m not sure. That’s a question I can’t answer on my own.”

“Boy or girl, then?”

“I don’t think it would matter to me,” Anne said, opening her desk drawer and pulling out a second apple that she threw Jackie’s way, knowing they would catch it.

“What… what if,” Jackie began, twisting the apple stem absently. “What if it was like me?”

“Then I think that would be alright too,” Anne answered.

“I think you’d be a good mom,” Jackie said, glancing up to see Anne’s answering smile.

“Thank you,” Anne said honestly.

“You wouldn’t make me wear dresses.”

“I wouldn’t be able to make you do much,” Anne muttered before asking, “Do _you_ want to wear dresses?”

Jackie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I like the ones Minnie May wears. They’re pretty.”

“But?”

“But I don’t want to do it just because everyone wants me to,” Jackie said, voice hard.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Anne said, giving Jackie a patient look when they frowned up at her. “It’s hard, being thrown into this kind of place. Halfway through your childhood.”

Jackie slumped against the desk again, tugging at their hair that just so happened to look more and more like Muriel Stacy’s by the day.

“The rules are different here.”

“Versus Charlottetown?” Anne asked and received a nod. “Not really. You just weren’t privy to them there, growing up like that.”

“I don’t like them.”

“Because you’re seeing them from the outside. It’s easier to see their faults when they aren’t taught to you from birth,” Anne said easily, taking another bite of apple.

“But they expect me to follow ‘em,” Jackie whined. 

“Well, you aren’t doing a very good job of it,” Anne said rudely through her mouthful.

“Hey!”

Anne shrugged as she swallowed her bite. “You don’t want to, so why do you care?”

Jackie didn’t answer for a moment before mumbling into the folded arms they had their head on, “I don’t know.”

“And it’s okay not to know. And I’m sure Miss Stacy has explained this to you. You can swim against the tide, but you just need to be prepared for how exhausting it will be,” Anne said before throwing her apple core out the open window and making Jackie snort.

“Can I come over after school?” Jackie asked, changing the subject as quickly as they usually did.

“I’ll be at the orchard today, but you can help me babysit Dellie,” Anne allowed as she stood to clean up her lunch before she called her students back in.

“Can she read yet?” Jackie complained, making Anne laugh.

“Give her a few more years,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll miss being able to read to her when she gets too old to sit still.”

“Then I can teach her how to play hide and seek,” Jackie smirked.

“Now that’s something you’re much too good at,” Anne said dryly, making the teen grin.

“Did I tell you Minnie May invited me to a sleepover?” Jackie asked suddenly, perking up.

Anne blinked. “She did?” she asked, looking surprised.

“Well, she said her aunt or something heard her mom talking about me and wants to meet me,” Jackie shrugged, letting Anne poke them into a standing position and follow her to the door.

“Sounds interesting,” Anne said, making a note to ask Muriel or Marilla Cuthbert about his Barry relative. 

“Minnie May said her house is real big, do you know which it is? Back in Charlottetown?”

“That is not a part I frequented, I’m sure,” Anne said sarcastically.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Jackie promised before jumping down the front steps and running off without saying any sort of goodbye, as usual.

  
  



	5. a dark world aches for a splash of the sun

“Mary? Have you seen Gilbert? He said he was going to be at the barn but he wasn’t there after I checked on the chickens,” Anne called as she started up the stairs. As she reached the top, she flinched when someone was suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her towards her room. “Diana—”

“You asked why I was really here,” Diana said, unable to keep a beaming smile off her face as she pulled her friend to where she wanted her to go. “Here it is.”

Anne stumbled into her room, surprised to find Mary and Pennie in there already. Just as she opened her mouth to ask what was going on, Diana squeezed her hand and gestured towards her bed. Where a white dress lay, a stark contrast to anything else Anne had ever worn.

“What—”

“Put it on!” Diana urged, looking like she could barely contain herself.

“What is this?” Anne blurted out, looking even more confused than before. 

“It’s a surprise,” Mary said, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she pulled out the chair in front of Anne’s vanity. “But you can’t wear pants to it.”

“I don’t— If anyone should wear that— You and Bash,” Anne stammered, a million ideas running through her head.

“This is for you, Anne,” Mary said softly.

“He’s done a lot of work on this,” Pennie said, making Anne look at her and realize that she was holding something familiar.

“Pennie…”

“I told them it was in Marilla’s old trunk, if they could find it,” Diana said, squeezing her hand again as they looked at the long-since repaired veil. “It’s a good thing I was here or they wouldn’t know to look for it.”

“Is… is this why you’re here?” Anne asked, her voice revealing the tears threatening to make an appearance as she looked at the friend she previously feared she would never see again.

“It wasn’t an easy journey, but Gilbert couldn’t let us miss this,” Diana said before tugging Anne into a hug. “Now get out of those horrid pants. Aunt Jo didn’t send you this dress for nothing!”

In a whirlwind, Anne was suddenly making the journey towards the orchard and Gilbert’s old home that they were slowly repairing. Her hair was done up more elegantly than she had ever seen and she was wearing a dress more gorgeous than she could ever have dreamed. She had fought to keep one knife on her, hidden under her skirts, but almost couldn’t handle being handed the bouquet of blossoms from her Snow Queen to carry with her. It was all more than she ever thought she would get, both as a child sinking under the awful opinions of others and as a woman made to grow up too quickly, unable to fathom such beauty and normalcy in this new world of death and decay. It hurt, so very badly, to have empty spaces on this day sprung on her, but the man she loved had gone to such great lengths to give this to her and it mended her heart just a touch more.

But as she approached the Blythe farmhouse to see her family on the porch, Gilbert standing at the top of the stairs beside Bash (holding Delphine), Cole, and Jerry, beneath enough flowers to rival a true Summer Soiree, Anne felt like her heart was going to burst right then and there. The look on Gilbert’s face, like he couldn’t believe his luck as she walked towards him in an ill-fitting wedding dress, made her feel as if the world spun around her, around them, just for this moment.

Anne stopped some ways away from the house and Diana, Mary, and Pennie continued on to join the others on the porch. She had to reign herself in before she lost it right on the lawn as Gilbert looked at her like nothing else existed. She took a deep, shaking breath, gripping her flowers in her hand, and Gilbert smiled at her as if he hadn’t planned this whole thing. Anne shook her head at him, making his smile grow, before realizing something and cutting her eyes to the others waiting expectantly under the blossoms.

She caught Jerry’s eye and gestured for him to come to her. When he just gave her a confused look, Anne rolled her eyes and gestured more frantically until Diana pushed him towards the stairs so he’d join Anne on the grass. 

“If you want to leave—”

“Shut up, Jerry,” Anne muttered, tugging him beside her and forcibly intertwining her arm through his. 

“What do you want?” Jerry asked even though he moved how she wanted him to move.

“For you to walk me down the aisle.”

“There is no aisle.”

“Jerry—”

“Let us go to your wedding,” Jerry said, as if Anne was the one holding them up, grin on his face.


	6. a dark world aches for a splash of the sun

“Jerry wouldn’t take us by my house when we arrived,” Diana said as she helped Anne make dinner for her second-to-last night in Avonlea. Her and Cole had actually snuck out of Aunt Jo’s house after Jerry came knocking on their door. The trip across the island was still too dangerous to do often, but she had assured Anne that it was worth it. 

Having Diana and Cole in her home for a few days had been the stuff of dreams. If she thought Gilbert being back, when he first arrived, felt like the antithesis of the life she had built since making it back to Green Gables, it was nothing like having Diana and Cole there, if only for a short amount of time. She could almost, _ just almost _ , forget about what was going on in the rest of the world as she gossiped with them both, focusing only on light subjects like her relationship with Gilbert and the mayhem caused by Minnie May, obviously avoiding the elephants in the room in the form of those no longer there. Anne refused to mar their precious amount of time together with the bad things, even if she did catch them glancing at her left hand more than once. 

Anne’s knife faltered for a moment before she continued to cut into the turnips they had just peeled. 

“I haven’t been inside, but I’m not sure you’d want to see it,” Anne said honestly, eyes on her cutting board.

“I think I’d like to,” Diana said, standing straighter as if she were about to argue with her mother. 

Anne looked from her knife to the ring sitting on her right hand and then up at Diana.

“Have you killed any, Diana?” Anne asked plainly, watching her friend’s face.

“... No,” she admitted, standing there in a pretty blue dress that was the complete opposite of what Anne now wore day to day.

“It’s not easy, at first,” Anne said, looking back down at her task. “It takes a while to get a feel for how hard you need to go.”

“... How hard?” Diana asked, sounding very unsure.

“It requires less precision with an axe, if you can swing it. I’ve been using my knives, which require a lot of close contact, but they just require the right amount of force to get all the way through, or else they keep going.”

“What if they’re too fast?”

“Any we’ll encounter will be slow enough,” Anne said, setting down the kitchen knife and taking the turnips to the pot on the stove. 

“Encounter where?” Diana gasped.

“On the way to your house,” Anne said, like it was obvious. 

“Couldn’t we go with Gilbert or Jerry…?”

“It would be more dangerous to go to Jerry’s house, with it so far out of the way. He doesn’t make the journey here too often. And I’m better at it than Gilbert is anyway.  _ And _ it’s not like we need an escort. It should be fairly clear, we can handle anything we come across.”

“ _ We _ ?”

“You aren’t leaving here without killing one, Diana Barry,” Anne said firmly, hands on her hips.

“But—”

“You need to learn how to protect yourself. I would’ve made you learn on the journey here if I had known.”

“My father—”

“Isn’t here. And won’t always be around to protect you, Diana. Maybe Avonlea wouldn’t be so empty if we had been taught to protect ourselves sooner,” Anne said meaningfully, making Diana frown harder.

“Do you know, then? About… some of the others?” Diana whispered, eyes wide.

“I know enough,” Anne dismissed, taking the carrots from Diana’s board and turning her back to her to face the stove.

The two old friends had refrained from going into detail about the last few years and how that looked for them, but Anne now wondered if her experience and Diana’s could have been any more different.

Maybe it had always been like that. Anne had spent most of her life fending for herself, both before Green Gables and after returning… Diana Barry had probably never stood alone in an empty house in her life.

It made Anne’s heart ache for so many reasons. It didn’t do to dwell, but she almost wanted to mourn for her past self, like she wanted to mourn for whatever Pennie had lost but wouldn’t mention. It also made her want to mourn for those they no longer had with them, like Ruby, who weren’t there today  _ because _ of how easy their lives had been. But Anne was now in a position to do something, at least for her Diana. So she wasn’t going to let her go back to Charlottetown without at least one sharp object hidden on her person. Diana Barry wouldn’t end up locked in a closet, left to decay. Not if Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had anything to say about it.

  
  



	7. Always the First Star That I Find

“Anne?” a voice whispered from the door.

Anne hummed in response but did not open her eyes.

“Can we make the cake yet?”

Anne opened her eyes just enough to squint at the clock before rolling over with a groan, wishing she could lay on her stomach like she desperately wanted to. 

“Bash hasn’t even left for work yet. A few more minutes,” Anne mumbled, not surprised to hear the patter of little feet and the bed shift as Marie took advantage of the empty spot her father left when he got up before the sun to go to work.

“Soon?” Marie whispered.

Anne blindly reached down and pulled the blanket up and over the seven-year-old’s head, making her giggle. “A few more minutes,” she said again, her breathing evening out as her step-daughter allowed silence to exist for just enough time.

More than a few minutes later, thankfully, Anne woke up to an empty bed and a much more reasonable time on the clock on the bedside time. She managed to get up, a feat not made easy by the size of her stomach, and got ready for the bright summer’s day that was peeking out from behind the bedroom curtain.

Downstairs, Anne found Marie in front of the television, which she immediately turned off at the sight of Anne.

“Now?” she asked, jumping up and joining Anne in the kitchen.

“Not yet,” Anne said, tapping her on the head, refraining from laughing at the girl practically wilted. “We need breakfast first. Bagel?”

“With honey walnut cream cheese,” Marie recited.

“I wouldn’t give you anything less,” Anne said with a wink as she made her way around the kitchen, having to make a few circles to get everything she needed because she kept forgetting things. Her pregnancy could have been worse, but Anne couldn’t truthfully say she loved it. (She definitely didn’t understand Mrs. Lynde’s opinion that it was better than menstruating, that was for sure.)

At the table, once the bagels were just crumbs and the honey walnut cream cheese had disappeared, Anne asked, “Alright, then. What exactly did Uncle Bash ask for?”

“Flour— um…” Marie scrambled off her chair and ran into the living room before running back with a piece of paper with what looked like a recipe printed on it (and was definitely from Gilbert’s work printer that Marie may or may not have been given permission to use). “Flourless chocolate cake!”

“What’s wrong with a good funfetti,” Anne mumbled as she took the recipe from Marie and glanced over it. “Are you going to be my sous-chef today?”

“Uh. Yes!”

“Good. Please clear off the table and I’ll preheat the oven,” Anne said, setting down the recipe and forcing herself to stand. “What temperature?”

“One hundred-ninety,” Marie dutifully read off as Anne pushed all the necessary buttons on the oven. She then went to the wall hooks by the kitchen door and plucked off an apron that was Marie-sized, which she handed to the little girl, and then her personal favorite that Marilla had given her when she first expressed an interest in baking with her adoptive mother. But, to her immense displeasure, the apron did not currently fit.

Anne was tempted to cry, which did not help her mood, but she instead focused on the excited face of Marie and tried to let that lift her back up. She had been lucky, coming into this child’s life at an early age. She was young enough to not really know what was going on when Anne and Gilbert began dating, and had only really cared about being the flower-girl at their wedding. To Marie, Anne had pretty much always been there, especially now that she was seven and Anne had officially been in her life longer than she had been out of it. And Anne knew to be grateful to have such a sweet little girl in her life, or two sweet little girls since Delphine was there just as much as Marie. With Anne’s luck, she could’ve had to deal with being pushed out to sea on an inflatable mattress or something, instead of happily baking a cake together. She could definitely see Delphine and Marie teaming up to hatch schemes when they got a bit older, so it was best to stay on their good side.

Anne and Marie collected the necessary ingredients together, piling them on the table and making sure they had everything. Anne knew baking was a great way to learn fractions and recalled just enough of the required mathematical knowledge to make this a learning experience too. Just because it was summer didn’t mean she still wasn’t a teacher.

Anne did the tasks Marie couldn’t, like melting the chocolate in a bowl over a boiling pot of water, but made sure she helped in any other way she could. Anne would’ve given anything to do something like this with someone when she was Marie’s age and she was excited that Marie was excited about it. Anne also made a mental note to find something to bake with Delphine so she wouldn’t completely miss out.

“Do you know why Bash asked for this cake for Dellie? She usually wants carrot for her birthday,” Anne asked absently as she cracked the eggs. Delphine was returning from summer camp that evening and it was Marie’s idea to make her something to welcome her home.

“Uncle Bash said Aunt Mary used’ta make it,” Marie said as she used a wooden spoon to poke at the melted chocolate.

“I see,” Anne murmured, smiling a little sadly. As someone who had to work very hard to find anything about her own parents, Anne was perpetually impressed by how much trouble Bash and Gilbert went to to make sure Delphine’s mom’s presence was always felt around the house, in photographs and stories and, evidently, recipes and baked goods. As her mind wandered, Anne hit an egg against the side of the bowl just a touch too hard and half the shell fell in, making her hiss a curse under her breath.

Marie gasped like someone had been shot, making Anne jerk and drop the rest of the eggshell in the bowl. “You said a bad word,” she whispered loudly, eyes wide.

Anne huffed, cheeks heating up slightly as she grabbed a spoon to try to fix her mistake. “I didn’t mean to,” she said, a touch petulantly. “I’m sorry.”

“Phillip R. said a bad word and couldn’t go to recess,” Marie said wisely.

“Thankfully it’s summer and there is no recess,” Anne said as she successfully cleaned out all the shells. “Here, can you lightly beat these for me?”

That evening, after Delphine was picked up from camp and brought home by Gilbert, the family sat around the table eating Delphine’s favorite meal, made by Bash, and listened to all the stories the ten-year-old could recount from her week away from home (which felt like a month, according to Bash).

Once everyone was full, Gilbert went to fetch the cake and the homemade whipped cream (that Marie made all on her own), and Anne couldn’t stop smiling at how excited Delphine was for the cake and how proud Marie was for having helped make it.

“Looks great, you two,” Bash said as they cut into it. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

Anne opened her mouth to brush it off, but Marie quickly interjected, “Anne said ‘shit’.”

Delphine started to giggle as Bash guffawed at the indignant look on Anne’s face.

“I did not! I said ‘damn’ and I said I was sorry,” Anne huffed, narrowing her eyes at her husband and how close he looked to laughing too.

“Are you trying to corrupt my daughter,” Gilbert teased, making Anne roll her eyes so hard it almost hurt.

“I’m her daughter too,” Marie corrected, making Gilbert smile and Anne’s heart melt.

“But that’s not disputing the corruption,” Bash muttered, giving Anne a grin in return for the dry look she shot him that would have made a lesser man falter.

“Eat your cake,” Anne huffed before slyly glancing at his daughter and then raising a challenging eyebrow back at him. “Dellie, what was that campfire song again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nod to my mom, who accidentally cursed in front of my cousin when he was a kid and he ratted on her, and my sister who fucked up a flourless chocolate cake last week.


	8. a dark world aches for a splash of the sun

Gilbert was tense as he stepped into the largest house he had ever been in, the discomfort from the obvious wealth of the place a stark contrast to the adrenaline produced from almost being shot out on the front lawn. The man who had almost shot him, and almost been shot in return, vaguely pointed him towards a room and then disappeared, leaving Gilbert to grip his gun and keep his eyes and ears open.

Gilbert’s own home had been nothing short of a wreck when he arrived back to his land; Green Gables, while clean, had transformed into more of a stronghold under Anne’s watchful eye; and all the homes into which he had broken, with Anne at his side, had deteriorated from the inside out. But this place… its grandeur would have been strange to him  _ before _ , and seemed that much more alien  _ now _ . He wouldn’t have even ventured to this part of Charlottetown had Anne not requested it, and he probably wouldn’t have even thought about accepting had he known how strange it would be to even be near this place. (And yet, Anne asked for so little, he had to admit to himself that he could never say no to her should she ask for a favor, even one like this). 

Shoulders tight and knuckles turning white around his rifle, Gilbert stepped into a sitting room larger than the whole ground floor of his home. And sitting by the fire, surrounded by opulence and burnt-out lightbulbs, was an older woman that held herself with such regality, Gilbert guessed her identity immediately. 

“Josephine Barry?” Gilbert asked after taking in the room and his eyes catching multiple things that could be used as a weapon in a pinch. As he said her name, the woman’s eyebrow lifted slowly.

“Am I to presume that you are here for some reason other than to loot my property?” Josephine asked dryly.

“Only if you happen to have medical textbooks,” Gilbert said, jerking as a door in the room flung open and a tall man with blond hair stepped inside. The only reason Gilbert didn’t raise his gun was because of Miss Barry’s lack of reaction to the sudden appearance. 

“Aunt Jo—”

“It seems we have a guest, Cole,” Josephine said, her eyes not leaving Gilbert. “I was just about to ask why he decided to call on us.”

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the other man and realized that it was red paint, not blood, that stained his hands. 

“Cole Mackenzie?” Gilbert asked hesitantly, wondering just what the fuck was going on here.

“And you are?” Cole asked, looking extremely unimpressed by Gilbert’s recognition.

At Cole’s question, and obvious affirmation of his identity, Gilbert looked him over again, taking in these two people he had heard about in letters but had yet to meet, who he had thought he wouldn’t ever get to meet. And yet…

“Gilbert Blythe,” he said eventually, watching Cole’s eyebrows raise in his own recognition of the name and just catching the minute change in Josephine’s expression. He watched carefully as he then said, “Anne asked me to look in on the place.”

Gilbert found the tension leaving him at the emotion on Josephine’s face and the way Cole all but fell into a chair beside her in shock. Gilbert set his gun down against a wall and stepped further into the room, the heat from the fire now able to reach him.

“Do you mean…” Josephine started, gripping her cane as she turned to Cole with tears in her eyes, looking nothing like the woman Gilbert met when he first entered the room.

“Are you telling the truth?” Cole blurted out, looking as if he might actually hit Gilbert if he wasn’t.

“Yes,” Gilbert said, moved by their emotional reactions. “My family and I are living with her at Green Gables.”

“Thank the lord,” Josephine murmured as Cole leaned forward in his chair, elbows propped on his knees. 

Gilbert opened his mouth to say something but heard a thump coming from another part of the house. He frowned, almost not daring to even think of the implications of this practically untouched shrine to Charlottetown’s former glory. If these two people he had only known about by name were alive and well, Gilbert almost had to wonder…

“Who else is here?” he asked lowly, fingers itching for his gun (since a surprise where his gun was necessary was the only surprise he could fathom anymore).

Out of the corner of his eye Gilbert caught Cole standing, but Gilbert just turned defensively towards the sound of someone running their way echoing down the hallway outside the room.

“Cole? Rollings said—”

Diana Barry stopped after rounding the corner, her jaw dropping as she saw Gilbert standing there.

Gilbert briefly wondered if she would recognize him after all these years but then it really hit him that she was there, looking older than when he last saw her, especially with her hair elegantly pinned into place, but certainly no worse for wear. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think, based on being in this home, that the world outside this building was as it should be, instead of whatever poorly rendered version of it was truly left. 

When Diana practically threw herself at him, tossing propriety to the wind to give him a hug, Gilbert felt an absurd need to laugh. And also a need to turn around and immediately leave so he could run all the way back to Avonlea to tell Anne the good news.

“Gilbert! Oh my goodness, I can’t believe— Aunt Jo, this is Gilbert Blythe! We went to school together,” Diana rushed out after pulling back and looking Gilbert up and down as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “How— Are you just now returning to PEI?!”

“No,” Gilbert said, shaking his head as he smiled in disbelief at his childhood classmate. “I’ve been back for almost a year now. In Avonlea.”

“You’re in  _ Avonlea _ ?” Diana gasped.

“Diana,” Cole said, appearing at her side and looking ready to burst. “Diana!  _ He’s with Anne _ .”

If Gilbert thought she had looked surprised to see him standing in her aunt’s home, it was nothing to the jolt that Cole’s words caused her as she stepped back away from Gilbert, hand to her mouth and eyes wide.

Diana couldn’t form words, it seemed, as she stared at Gilbert, almost as if she was waiting for him to take it back. It reminded him of how Anne looked whenever he said something nice about… well, any part of her. She usually looked as if she expected him to laugh after he said it.

“It’s true,” Gilbert assured her gently, causing her to take a heaving breath as her tears began to fall unbidden down her cheeks.

“She’s alive a-and… and well?” Diana choked out, her hand going to her chest.

Gilbert hesitated, his mind going to the bandages still on Anne’s hand and the haunted look she got in her eyes sometimes when she thought no one was looking. “She’s a fighter, you know that,” he said lightly, but meaning it, and Diana nodded hard enough to make her tears fall faster.

“We thought she left Avonlea with the Cuthberts,” Aunt Jo said, drawing Gilbert’s attention back to her.

Gilbert’s jaw clenched as he glanced away from these people, feeling their eyes on him, and then looked back. “She did,” he said slowly. “She returned to Green Gables a few years ago, she said.”

Diana made a noise, quick but obviously distressed, as she studied Gilbert’s face and the dark look he gave her when he looked back to her. “M-matthew? Marilla?” she whispered and had to bite her lip so hard it turned white when Gilbert minutely shook his head.

“Was… was she alone?” Cole asked, afraid of the answer. 

“Please, come sit. Tell us everything,” Aunt Jo urged and the rest couldn’t refuse.

Gilbert took a deep breath, hesitating to sit down in his travel-dirtied clothes on a chair that looked to have been embroidered with gold, but sat anyway, for this topic of conversation was more important than things like that. (He vaguely wondered if the things in this room were even worth much of anything anymore, besides their weight in firewood or weaponry.)

“For a time,” Gilbert relayed from what he had gathered from the bits and pieces Anne gifted him. “She… well, she actually found Pennie, a little girl, not too long before I arrived back, I think. Said she was on her own so Anne took her in. Didn’t hesitate to let me and my, um, friend and his wife into Green Gables when she saw that my old home wasn’t hospitable.”

“Sounds like her,” Cole sighed. 

“It’s hard to get the whole story out of her,” Gilbert continued. 

“That definitely sounds like her,” Cole said.

“She was always so forthcoming with her tales,” Aunt Jo disagreed.

“Not if it was about the hardships she faced,” Diana interjected.

“And she faced them,” Gilbert agreed, taking back over and getting the attention of the others again. “Jerry relayed that she… wasn’t too well when he found out she was back.”

“Jerry?” Diana asked suddenly, her eyes widening again.

“Their old farmhand,” Gilbert clarified before realizing that Diana knew exactly who he was. “Him and his family are still there too. They trade with us, with their game and our crops.”

“And Anne… she…”

Gilbert glanced down at his clasped hands, a shade darker than his natural tone because of the dirt, and couldn’t help the proud smile that came across his face. “She’s a fighter,” he said softly, as if that was all he could say to explain it.


	9. a dark world aches for a splash of the sun

“Is she… Has she changed much?”

“... Yes.”

“A lot?”

“Enough.”

“Is… is it a bad change…?”

“It kept her alive,” Gilbert said, as if that’s all that mattered, just as the front door was opened.   
  


“Gilbert?” Anne called as she walked into the house, frowning at the fact that nothing was in front of the door and barring her entrance. “I didn’t find any of that root you mentioned, but I did find preserves, so it wasn’t a total bust.”

She dropped her bag and a few weapons on the kitchen table, hoping she could get to her knife sharpening that night since she had encountered a few more obstacles in her scavenging that morning than anticipated. When she didn’t get a response, she called Gilbert’s name again, and this time heard him answer from the other part of the house.

Anne stepped into the sitting room, mouth open to ask Gilbert why he was in there in the first place since they all usually congregated around the kitchen table, but she froze at the sight of two new, but not unfamiliar, people standing in the middle of the room grinning wildly at her.

“Oh my God,” Anne breathed, feeling like her heart had literally disappeared from her chest. She then turned right around and put her back to the room, one arm going around her chest and the other holding her head.

“Anne?” Gilbert said, his tone slightly strained as he tried not to sound too amused. Anne heard his footsteps, distinct enough for her to identify them, and then his hand was on her back. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Anne mumbled, her whole hand over her eyes as her breath began to hitch. “Gil…”

Gilbert huffed. “Diana’s been crying since she got here, you’re not alone,” he said, rubbing her back gently over the shirt she was wearing that he now realized was definitely his… and definitely not white anymore.

Anne shook her head, her shoulders moving with aborted sobs. She couldn’t identify what she was feeling. The sight of her two friends was so overwhelming she didn’t dare look back at them. “Promise me they won’t be gone if I turn around,” Anne begged so quietly that only Gilbert could hear.

She felt rather than heard Gilbert sigh as his arm wrapped around her and she felt him kiss the top of her head like he usually did (but, this time, she refrained from teasing him that he did that to remind her that he was that much taller). 

“I promise,” he whispered, making the conscious decision not to argue with her or her logic, not now. Not with this.

Anne had to take another moment but only chose to turn around when she heard Cole and Diana murmur to each other behind her. Gilbert thankfully stayed at her side and he was right in the fact that she was not the only one actively crying.

“I think you’ve somehow gotten even more beautiful since I last saw you,” Anne choked out through her tears, shaking her head at Diana who looked seconds away from completely losing it as she took in Anne in her bloodstained shirt, pants, and the obvious knife in her hair.

“Thank you,” Cole said to lighten the mood despite the tears on his cheeks he wasn’t even trying to hide.

The joke made Anne let out a surprised laugh and the sound acted as a trigger, her two friends closing the distance between them in a blink of an eye, hugging her between them since they couldn’t wait even a moment to do so individually.

“I can’t believe it,” Anne sobbed, unable to hold back as she held the people that had made her life in Avonlea worth living, back when the worst thing she had to deal with was dirty looks and nasty words.

“ _ We _ can’t believe it,” Cole said, pushing Anne back just enough so they could get a better look at her. “We can’t believe  _ you _ !”

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert!” Diana cried, grabbing Anne’s face between her hands and making Anne look at her. “You are the most amazing— You still have your necklace?”

Anne blindly reached to tug out the locket, now accompanied by the hat, that Diana had suddenly spied, and watched as Diana did the same for hers. And then they fell apart in each other’s arms.

Once everyone was able to reign it in, at least a little, and also once they were interrupted by Mary and Bash arriving back from the orchard (reminding Anne to ask someone why they were making so many trips over there), Anne got it in her mind to be the hostess and try to figure out where their guests could stay.

“I’m afraid we just moved one of the beds into Pennie’s room— Oh, Pennie!” Anne said to the girl that had just come in from the barn who didn’t look as surprised to see newcomers as Anne had expected. “Sweetheart, this is your Uncle Cole and Aunt Diana! You two, this is Pennie!”

As pieces of her past and present fell together in the kitchen, Anne strode into Matthew’s old room and refused to feel any certain way about it.

“Would you be horribly uncomfortable if you were to share a room?” Anne asked, biting her lip in uncertainty. “Or if Cole doesn’t mind sleeping on the floor— Or, you can sleep on opposite ends like me and Jerry—”

“—You and  _ what _ ?”

“It’s alright, we can share, can’t we, Anne? Just like old times?” Diana asked, beaming from a face that looked much too nice for having just spent the better part of the afternoon crying.

Anne’s mouth shut with an audible click as her face heated up and she refused to even look at Bash as he tried to hide his laugh against the toddler in his arms.

“Um. I’m… already… sharing,” Anne managed, giving herself away by glancing at Gilbert and the way his back was to them but his ears were beginning to match her cheeks.

“What do you—  _ Anne _ !” Diana gasped loudly, looking scandalized as Cole snorted in laughter.

Anne looked ready to defend herself but was suddenly being pulled up the stairs, and the only thing the rest of the household could hear before a bedroom door was slammed, was something none of them had ever heard, or hadn’t heard in a very long time: Anne giggling in laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I guess I lied... here's just a small bit of this, I probably would've fleshed it out more had it been included in the actual story


	10. return the love you took from me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the _lazy_eye

Anne tugged on the sleeve of her sweater, surely stretching it out but too preoccupied to notice. She kept her gaze on the scenery passing outside the truck window, barely seeing the greenery turn to gray cement as she tuned out whatever song was playing on the radio from whatever station Matthew’s truck was able to pick up.

When they pulled to a stop, Anne blinked, and realized they had already arrived on campus and she had ten minutes to get to class (since Matthew kindly reminded her that she would need to make a pit stop to her apartment to pick up her books, at the very least, but also a sweater, though she didn’t explain why… although it may have had to do with why she was suddenly only using her left hand for things that morning).

Anne turned to Matthew and leaned over the console to give him a quick hug, too in her own head to take note of the surprised, but pleased, look on his face as she pulled away.

“Thanks for the ride,” Anne said, pulling the door handle and giving it an extra push as instructed.

“Happy Birthday,” Matthew said as she slid out, backpack in hand.

Anne paused in the middle of closing the door and looked back at Matthew.

“I think it will be,” Anne said, slowly but decisively. She gave Matthew a smile, closed the door, and waved, her sleeve slipping down just a touch before she turned and hurried across a lawn full of people enjoying the spring morning.

Almost as if the universe was gifting her aplenty on her birthday this year, Anne received an email from one of her professors cancelling her second class of the day, which meant she was free to do as she wished after just one mid-morning discussion. And, fortunately, it was for her single literature class of the semester. Her interest in writing lately had also fueled a focus towards her literary studies and made her make an appointment to speak with her advisor about committing to her minor. And while her thoughts were running wild in her head that morning, she even managed to speak up in class, arguing against some dude that was dissing Sue Bridehead just a bit too passionately, prompting Anne to defend the character as a woman ahead of the times even now. Unless her eyes were playing a trick on her, she thought she saw her professor even smile once she shut up and slumped back in her seat.

Before she knew it, they were dismissed, and Anne was left with a decision. 

While there were just too many options flying through her head, it almost wasn’t even a fair fight on what she ended up choosing. Anne’s feed carried her of their own volition out of the humanities building and towards the part of campus that looked like it got a few more dollars than the rest, if anyone were to give their cynical appraisal.

Gripping the edges of her sweater sleeves against her palms despite the way the sun kept warming the day as it rose, Anne found what she hoped to be the correct building and sat herself down on a decorative wall across from it. She pulled out a book and made herself comfortable, all too happy to lose herself in some words for just a minute or two so her mind would stop spinning and stop refusing to settle

And Anne must have succeeded because she didn’t notice someone walking towards her and saying her name until they were right in front of her.

“Anne?” Gilbert asked, eyebrow raised in amusement as she finally looked up and realized he was there. 

“Oh,” Anne said, glancing down at her phone and realizing a few hours had actually passed. Dropping her book beside her, she stood, her nerves hitting her at the sight of his smile.

“Hey,” he said, probably a touch confused as to why she was there but still looking happy to see her. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” Anne said, biting her lip as they both kept an arms length between them. Thankfully Gilbert broke the rising tension and stepped forward after a moment, ducking his head down to kiss her cheek, his expression softening when he pulled back and saw her answering smile.

“Did one of your classes get cancelled?” Gilbert asked, not stepping away and letting one hand graze hers where they were together, absently toying with her stretched sleeve.

“Mhm,” Anne hummed, shifting just a touch so Gilbert was blocking the sun, his curls now backlit in the light in a way that just accented his gentle smile.

“Great. Do you want to go to the cafe? Elijah can make you something special for your birthday,” Gilbert suggested, taking one of her hands and beginning to lead her towards the direction his car was in. “Or we can go somewhere else. I overheard someone talking about this new place—”

“Gil,” Anne interrupted, planting her feet so he would stop, their hands clasped and held out between them.

“We can go wherever you want—”

“Gil,” Anne said again, taking a step forward and gripping his hand tighter as he did the same so they met in the middle. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked up at him, grateful that he stayed silent as he waited for her to speak. Anne almost lost her nerve under the weight of his unwavering gaze, but he looked so patient… as if he would gladly wait all day for her to get her words together. Maybe she should have thought this out more…

When Gilbert let his bag fall out of his other hand and onto the ground, and then reached up to carefully tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Anne realized this man would make an amazing doctor because his patients would surely feel like they could tell him  _ anything _ , and he would listen.

“Gil,” Anne repeated. She then gently tugged her hand out of his so she could slowly push both sleeves of her sweater to her elbows, immediately feeling relief in the way of a gentle breeze that, despite definitely being just her mind playing a trick on her, felt as if it blew directly onto a specific spot on her wrist.

“Anne?” Gilbert asked, not catching on.

So Anne shifted back just enough so there was room for the sunlight to shine between them. And she lifted her right hand, palm up.

Gilbert looked. The expression that suddenly took over his face would have been comical if Anne’s heart wasn’t threatening to thump out of her chest. But he blinked down at the dark lines that had to have been as familiar to him as the back of his hand by now, and then looked back up at Anne. And she watched as his mouth went from being dropped open in surprise to ever-so-slowly creeping into a grin.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything!” Anne blurted out a touch too loudly, causing a few people to glance their way, but they were too wrapped up in each other to notice. And his grin didn’t falter.

“Okay,” he said easily.

“We… we still…”

“Made our choices,” Gilbert filled in, his hands taking hers as if he couldn’t handle not being connected.

“Yes,” Anne whispered, feeling like his smile was contagious as she felt her own cheeks lift, just barely. 

Gilbert’s smile shifted just enough so he could lean down to kiss her in the middle of campus, hundreds of students walking around that had no idea what just occurred between them. And while Anne may never be comfortable making a public declaration regarding the life-altering addition to her skin, she paid no mind to anything around them as her arms slipped around Gilbert’s neck and she kissed him back, feeling like it all hit so differently in the light of day.

Someone then bumped into Gilbert’s back, mumbling a half-heartedly apology, and made them stumble slightly and break their kiss even though it was the last thing Anne wanted to do, as if pulling apart  _ right then _ would mean a permanent separation.

Gilbert huffed, kissing Anne’s cheek before stepping back, but keeping their hands linked.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he started slowly before letting himself smirk. “But most places will give us a free dessert if we let it slip that we just Matched.”

The sound that left Anne from deep in her chest surprised her, but she let her giggles take over so she could pretend they were the cause of the tears welling in her eyes. She shook her head up at Gilbert and the way he looked so pleased with himself at making her laugh, a feat he didn’t tire of as a teenager and wouldn’t now as an adult that was linked with her in a way he wouldn’t dare ever break.

Anne had never put much thought into her birthdays, but she would always remember this one as the climax to an eventful year that filled her life with so much more than she ever thought she could have. Maybe Birthday Eve dinners at Green Gables would be the new tradition to celebrate her birthday and... maybe an anniversary. (And Anne could now look back on certain dates for what they gave her, not what they took away, and she could anticipate celebrating with those around her instead of just remembering alone.) (Plus, free desserts never hurt anyone.)


	11. the road through ruby falls has reached the end

Gilbert shuffled into his home, his hands setting down his medical bag and hanging his coat on the correct hook on muscle memory alone. He couldn’t remember anything of note happening nine months ago, but something must have because he’d been bombarded with nothing but new babies all spring. After tonight he had officially lost count, but he wouldn’t need to try to remember the correct number to fall asleep because he knew he’d be out as soon as his head hit the pillow. But before he could even  _ think _ of the back of his eyelids, he needed something, literally anything, to eat. Had he even had time for breakfast that morning? It was a testament to his exhaustion that it took him so long to notice that he wasn’t in the poorly lit kitchen alone until he was almost on top of the teenager sitting at the table.

“You’re still up?” Gilbert asked, blinking down at John who blinked up at him, seemingly startled out of the focus he was giving what looked like an essay in front of him.

“Yeah,” John mumbled, rubbing his eyes as if they felt as gritty as Gilbert’s. “I couldn’t concentrate earlier.”

“Are the twins asleep?” Gilbert asked, shoulders slumping in relief at the sight of a napkin-covered plate sitting on top of the stove. It wasn’t much, upon inspection, but it was better than he would’ve been able to come up with at that moment. He took the plate and fell into the seat beside John, feeling as old as he always did after weeks of long hours, and at the sight of John looking closer and closer to manhood by the day.

“Went without a fuss tonight,” John said, getting a grunt in return as his father barely paused to chew. As the silence took over once more, John refrained from tapping his pen as he stared down at the half-filled page he was meant to be completing.

A few minutes and a plate of food later, Gilbert felt just awake enough to not fall asleep at the table, so he shifted in his chair to see John’s unmoving gaze fixed on the paper.

“Having trouble?” Gilbert asked, rubbing at the bags under his eyes and hoping the latest Lynde baby could hold off for a few more days.

John hummed. “We’re supposed to write about our family history,” he said slowly.

Gilbert visibly faltered for one fraction of a second, but it was enough. He leaned back into his chair and scratched at the stubble along his jaw that he knew would have to stay there lest he nick an important artery because he fell asleep mid-shave.

And John may not have been the best student in his class, but he surely wasn’t the worst, and he paid attention more than many gave him credit for. So he kept his pen in his hands, held between both so they weren’t empty, and cut his eyes to Gilbert who held his gaze.

“I know Ma only knows her parents came from Scotland,” John began. “So I didn’t ask her. Especially now…”

John paused and Gilbert gave him a nod of approval. It was probably best not to bring any of this up to Anne at that moment. Her latest pregnancy had her tearing up at the drop of a hat, which hadn’t happened in the last, but, according to what she confided to Gilbert, did remind her of how she felt when she was pregnant with John. Not that Gilbert would keep something important from her, but it was best to be… delicate about anything more important than what was for dinner and how her current writing project was going.

“I went into your office,” John continued. “And found some stuff about the orchard and how long it’s been here…”

“That would make for a good essay,” Gilbert said carefully, keeping his tone neutral. He could only watch as John worked up the courage to say what he really wanted to say. And Gilbert had to let him.

John chewed on his lip, a habit he picked up from Delphine, before eventually saying, “But… is it  _ my _ history?”

Gilbert let out a breath, a deep one, and ran his hand through his curls that needed both a trim and a wash. John’s inquiry wasn’t a surprise, but it was also something he had hoped would just… never come up. But it had, so he had to give the kid an answer, because they did nothing if not foster curiosity in this household.

“Technically speaking…”

John huffed petulantly and looked just like Anne for a split second, almost making Gilbert laugh. “Dad—”

“Does it matter?” Gilbert asked, his jaw clenching to try to stay neutral.

John shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the pen, eyes back on the tabletop.

“In terms of blood, no,” Gilbert said plainly. “It’s not. But I hope we raised you better than to focus on just that.”

“People always put so much stock in those things…”

“And those people are narrow-minded,” Gilbert sighed. “They’re the same kinds of people that try to turn us away when we go to get on the train or enter an establishment with Uncle Bash and Dellie. Does it make Dellie any less a part of your family just because you aren’t related to her by blood? Because you never were, with or without my blood in your veins, Johnny.”

John shook his head in answer, brow furrowed in a way that made Anne constantly smile because it was pure Gilbert. 

“And you know we’ve discussed adopting before… And you know anyone we adopted would be as much a part of our family as anyone else.”

“The assignment…”

“Is about your family history. I think there are more definitions for ‘family’ than you’ll find in the dictionary,” Gilbert said. “Why don’t you ask Grandma Hazel for some stories to include in your essay, I’m sure that’ll make up for your lack of words about your mother’s side.”

The corner of John’s mouth twitched as he nodded. “I can’t always tell if she exaggerates as much as Uncle Bash or not.”

“Me neither,” Gilbert snorted as he stood. He ruffled John’s hair that had long-since darkened into a shade Anne had been secretly jealous of. He then bent to kiss the top of the kid’s head and let himself smile at the fact that he got away with it. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” John said, glancing up at Gilbert as he added, “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” Gilbert said to his son before requesting, “Please don’t let anyone wake me up unless the house is actually up in flames.”

“Will do,” John chuckled as he seemingly got a spark of inspiration and started to write a new sentence onto his essay, and probably committing himself to breaking his promise of going to bed anytime soon. 

Gilbert ascended the stairs and entered his bedroom, doing his best to keep quiet as he got ready for bed. He couldn’t think of anything that felt as good as being able to slide under the blankets and finally relax against his pillows. The only thing that made it better was being able to watch his wife roll over in the dark so he had the perfect chance to slip an arm around her.

He knew the topic of conversation John had brought up wasn’t going to go away, and it was definitely one that him and Anne would need to discuss with John together. But he hoped he at least got it in his son’s mind that blood didn’t matter and had never mattered, not in their home. He’d repeat it as many times as he needed to, but he liked to think that the wide array of people whom they called family was proof enough for the kid, if he really thought about it. And Gilbert hadn’t needed to apply much thought to the idea that Johnny was his, just as he didn’t have to sit long on the idea that Bash was his brother.

Family was family. And Gilbert Blythe was much too busy with his to fight with any idiot that tried to argue otherwise.


	12. the road through ruby falls has reached the end

Anne blinked her eyes open when she heard a light tap on the door and watched as John peeked inside the room. She smiled and gestured for him to enter as she pushed herself into somewhat of a sitting position against her pillows.

“Sorry—”

“No, no. Please come in, sweetheart,” Anne said, knowing her exhaustion was leaking into her voice but patting the bed beside her anyway.

John gently shut the door against the sound of Gilbert trying to wrangle a few kids too excited for their own good into their beds, making John shake his head a little. On his way to where Anne lay, he glanced into the two bassinets beside the bed and raised an eyebrow at his mother.

“Again?” he asked.

“Oh, hush,” Anne huffed, repressing a smile. “I’m quite aware, believe me.”

“Dellie said she’ll stay a while. To help. If you want,” John said as he sat on the edge of the bed, facing Anne.

“And she’s an angel for it,” Anne sighed, glancing at the babies in the bassinets before looking back to John. “I hope you won’t resent us too much, for asking you to chip in. Just a bit.”

John’s brow furrowed as he shook his head. “I don’t mind,” he said, sounding honest.

“Because you’re a sweet boy,” Anne said, smiling tiredly at her first born.

John’s face stayed scrunched up as he looked down at his heads, something obviously going through his head. After a moment, he finally asked, “Was it like this when I was born?”

“Exhausting?” Anne asked, hoping that was the route he chose to venture down.

John shook his head, not saying anything more as his eyes met hers. Anne sighed.

“No,” she said.

“What was it like?”

“Do you really want to know?” Anne asked, her head feeling heavier by the second.

“... I don’t know,” John mumbled.

“Johnny…”

“I know… but… I was just curious.”

“You do come by that honestly,” Anne said, sighing again as she gave him a weak smile. 

“That’s what Dad always says,” John murmured absently before giving her an expectant look.

Anne didn’t say anything for a while, her gaze looking a bit distant before she pulled it back, her smile turning sad. “I met so many amazing people when I came to Avonlea,” she started. “But, before that, I was on my own. It was difficult.”

“You didn’t have Dad?” John asked.

“I met your father the day he delivered you,” Anne confided, watching the surprise register on his face.

“Oh,” he said.

“And he brought me here. Because I had nowhere else to go.  _ We _ had nowhere else to go.”

John frowned down at his hands. “I… I mean, I thought so… but… What about my real—” John then flinched at the sudden movement as his mother’s hand was suddenly gripping his wrist, her eyes sharper than they had been since he walked in the room.

“Your father is  _ real _ in all the ways that count,” Anne said firmly, not letting him look away from her again. “He has been your father since you were born and has been there for you every day since. And that is much,  _ much _ more than many people get, Johnny.”

“More than you got?” John whispered through a lump in his throat.

“And more than I thought you’d ever get. Until your father convinced me that he wasn’t going anywhere,” Anne said, letting go of his arm but losing some of the tension she held when he just moved his hand to take hers.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“What he told you was absolutely correct, sweetheart. Blood doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make someone like Dellie or Grandma Marilla or Aunt Diana any less our family. Do you remember all the food people sent us after the twins were born? We’ll have more than we know what to do with by this time tomorrow, too.  _ That’s _ family,” Anne said, squeezing her son’s hand. “It’s caring about those around you, whether you have the same nose or not.”

John just nodded, eyes falling to his mother’s wedding ring that sat on the bedside table because it hadn’t fit in the last month and a half. 

“Where  _ did _ I get my nose?” he asked hesitantly.

“From someone you’ve never met. But your coloring is all me, in case you were questioning that,” Anne said, biting back a smile at the way he rolled his eyes. “But all the stuff that matters, you got from Dad.”

“Like what?” John asked.

“Your kindness. Your focus. Your ability to make the twins calm down at the drop of a hat,” Anne said, unable to take her eyes away from the slight smile inching across his face. “However, your sense of humor might have come from your Uncle Bash, unfortunately.”

“I’ll tell him you said that,” John chuckled.

“He’ll take it as a compliment,” Anne said just as the bedroom door opened again and Gilbert stepped inside.

“I think I’ll get to bed, too,” John said, leaning forward and letting his mother hug him as tight as she could. He then stood and immediately hugged Gilbert, not even complaining when he got a kiss on the head and ruffled hair. “Goodnight.”

John stepped out of the room but then leaned back in.

“What did you do to convince Ma?” he asked Gilbert.

“Forgery,” Gilbert said without missing a beat.

John looked a bit startled before he let out a laugh and walked back out, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t think he believed you,” Anne said from behind the hand that was trying to stifle her giggles so they wouldn’t wake the babies.

“I don’t think he did,” Gilbert said dryly, giving his wife a smirk that caused her cheeks to go pink. “Any more dragons you need slaying, Miss Shirley?”

“Do dirty diapers count as dragons?” Anne asked through a yawn as she slid down under her blankets.

“They do for another set of twins,” Gilbert said, shifting in doctor-mode briefly to check on the still-sleeping newborns before joining his wife in their bed.

“My vote is for adoption next time,” Anne mumbled as her eyes closed.

“With our luck we’ll find a two-for-one deal,” Gilbert muttered as he wrapped his arms around Anne and felt her body go heavy with sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me saying "we'll see" either means "never" or "after my walk"


	13. If I Am Silent, Then I Am Not Real

Anne knocked and then crossed her arms against the slight chill in the air that exposed the fact that it was springtime and not yet the warm nights of summer. She shifted on her feet and thought about turning around, but it was too late now, she had already woken someone up.

“Anne?” Bash asked incredulously as he opened the door and realized who was standing on his front porch so late. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Anne said automatically, despite the tight feeling in her gut.

“Did you walk all the way here? In the dark?” Bash asked, looking resigned to the answer he would receive.

Anne shrugged.

Bash sighed. “Come in, I’ll wake Mary,” he said, stepping aside.

“No,” Anne said quickly before letting out a breath and shaking her head. “No, I don’t need to come in. I just… could I speak to Gilbert? Just for a moment?”

“Only you, Miss Shirley,” Bash said, shaking his head. He left the door open, almost as if he hoped she would change her mind and step out from the night air, but she stayed on the porch as she heard his footsteps go up the stairs and towards what she knew to be Gilbert’s room.

After less than a minute, she heard the familiar steps of someone coming downstairs and Gilbert was at the door abruptly, brow furrowed in worry.

“Anne,” he said, stepping outside, his hands going to her arms as he looked her up and down. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said automatically. “I’m fine. I just… could we talk? Just for a moment?”

“Of course,” Gilbert said immediately, keeping some contact with her as she stepped towards the stairs and sat, Gilbert following like a magnet. He gave her a rueful smile as he asked, “You um… aren’t getting cold feet, are you?”

“No! Of course not,” Anne said, her hand shooting out to grab his. “I… I haven’t done anything to make you think that, have I?”

“You  _ are _ on my porch the night before our wedding, Anne-girl,” Gilbert said, eyebrows expressing his slight confusion.

Anne huffed, looking away from him. “I’m sorry…”

“You know you can tell anything,” Gilbert urged gently.

“I know…”

“But you expect there to be a limit,” Gilbert said carefully, folding his other hand over hers. 

Anne made an aborted shrugging movement as a lump arose in her throat and she kept her eyes on her boots. Every now and then Gilbert would remind her just how well he really knew her. It shouldn’t be a surprise, after the last few years, but it always was for her. Ever since he proposed, even, she had been having vivid dreams about him waking up one day and realizing it was all a mistake. Based on his actions and words, he would do nothing of the sort, but Anne could no more control her dreams than she could the weather.

It was a testament to how familiar she was with him that she didn’t flinch when he moved closer and kissed her temple, like he always did when she was within reach. Against the odds, the gesture made her shoulders relax minutely.

“I realized something,” Anne whispered, eyes moving to follow the gentle brushes of Gilbert’s thumb against the back of her hand. 

“Alright,” Gilbert said softly when it seemed like she needed some encouragement. But not too much.

“I don’t want to be pregnant,” Anne blurted out, the force of her words making a few tears fall from her wide eyes as she dared to look at Gilbert for his reaction.

Gilbert blinked, obviously surprised by the chosen topic, but also obviously trying to keep his expression neutral. “I—”

“Jackie… Jackie asked once. About us having children. I did not have much of an answer, then. But I have been thinking about it recently,” Anne said, the words tumbling out of her. “And… and the idea… the idea of… It scares me, Gil. When I truly think about… being like that,  _ I can’t breath _ . Just— I… I think of all the women I’ve seen, pregnant and abandoned and alone! And those babies they never even wanted. I— What if I end up—”

“Anne…”

“I— I could try,” Anne said suddenly, turning her body towards him more, looking like she was trying to beg him to give her a chance. “I don’t truly… I don’t believe you would— But… nine months of… I c-could… I could try, for you. I promise I would try. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad—”

“Anne! Of course not,” Gilbert said firmly, making Anne bite her lip as she silently cried. “Of course I wouldn’t make you do something like that, if it scares you that much.  _ Anne _ …”

“But surely you want kids of your own,” Anne managed to say, her breath hitching.

“I want  _ you _ ,” Gilbert insisted, reaching out and drawing her to him.

“But—”

“I apologize for never bringing this up,” Gilbert whispered into her hair. “And this doesn’t need to be decided now. But, sweetheart… I shouldn’t assume… but I have always thought that you would want to adopt. Give a child a home that doesn’t have one. Now that you have a true home to give.”

Anne let out a gasping sob as she pulled back so she could look into Gilbert’s face, even if he was somewhat blurred by the tears still in her eyes.

“I do want that,” Anne sniffed, leaning into the hand that Gilbert used to brush away some of the tears on her cheeks. “I… I thought you…”

“I would love to have a house full of children. With you,” Gilbert said, hand moving to cup her cheek. “In whatever way you want.”

Anne couldn’t help the watery smile that slowly came over her and the way Gilbert’s own soft smile untwisted her knot in her stomach.

“I sometimes can’t believe you are real, Gilbert Blythe,” Anne sighed, her eyes closing as Gilbert leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I think you’ll find a similar sentiment in my vows. If either of us are awake enough to follow through tomorrow,” Gilbert said, a chuckle in his voice.

“I would marry you half-asleep and in my nightclothes, if necessary,” Anne insisted, making Gilbert laugh.

“Marilla Cuthbert wouldn’t allow it, not on her lawn,” Gilbert said, smirking at Anne and relishing in the one he got in return. 

“Then I better get back,” Anne whispered regretfully. 

“I’ll walk you back to Green Gables,” Gilbert said, reluctantly pulling away.

“You don’t—”

“I better, or else you’ll really get cold feet and disappear into the night,” he teased.

“Never,” Anne said firmly before tugging him back to her so she could kiss the smile off his face.


	14. If I Am Silent, Then I Am Not Real

Anne stood in the entryway of the orphanage, her eyes slowly taking in the state of the place. It looked in better condition than the one she had spent most of her childhood in, but being there still made her uncomfortable. Like her skin didn’t fit right, like she had stepped in an ant bed while walking through a field barefoot. She could only cross her arms loosely over her stomach as her footsteps slowed and she let the matron blather on at Gilbert as they walked ahead, the matron not even noticing they were leaving her behind.

Gilbert snuck a look at her over his shoulder but seemingly knew to let her go at her own pace. He knew she knew what she was doing in a place like this more than he did. He also knew he had been lucky enough to be allowed to make his own choices after becoming an orphan, very much the opposite of her circumstances… until she had forced the hands of fate to shift her in another direction.

Anne kept her face blank as she looked around, studying each passing child as quickly as she could before they disappeared into another part of the house, only using the hallway in which she stood as a thoroughfare. They all seemed to be in clean clothes and didn’t seem too afraid to make a little bit of noise. The bar was low in Anne’s mind, but this place seemed to meet it. 

It was only after Anne stood there for a few minutes that she finally noticed one stationary figure on the stairs, appearing to be doing what Anne was: watching.

The little girl looked just a few years older than Delphine, so perhaps nine or ten, and had the same shade of black hair that Anne had coveted as a child. Her dark eyes took in her surroundings as her chin was propped up on her hand, elbow on her knee. When she caught Anne looking at her, she looked so disinterested that Anne had to refrain from laughing.

Despite knowing she wouldn’t receive a warm reception, Anne made her way over to the stairs and plopped herself down, near the girl but not too close.

“Your dress is gonna get dirty,” the girl said immediately.

“I think it can handle some dust,” Anne replied, going back to watching for any rogue child scampering through the halls.

“The babies are upstairs,” the girl informed Anne blandly, eyes still observing as well.

“So I’ve heard.”

“You gonna let your husband pick you a baby?” the girl asked derisively.

“We are not here to get a baby,” Anne said evenly.

“Everyone wants babies,” the girl argued.

“I do remember that being the case,” Anne said. “But not for us.”

“So you want a maid. Or a farmhand,” the girl inferred.

Anne glanced over at her, charmed by her insolence. “I believe we are capable of hiring any help we need, if we needed it,” she said.

“So, what? You can’t have a baby of your own, so you wanna pick a kid to play house ‘til you get bored?” the girl asked darkly.

Anne raised an eyebrow at the little girl who only sent a furtive look her way after realizing she may have crossed a line.

“That’s a bit rude,” Anne said dryly before looking back out into the hall as a group of boys ran by. She mimicked the girls’ stance by putting her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her clasped hands. “And no, that is not quite the case. This is not about whether or not we  _ can _ have children the traditional way. This is about us  _ wanting _ children the  _ non _ -traditional way.”

When Anne did not get a response, she glanced at the girl out of her corner of her eye and found the girl giving her a funny look, like she had never heard anything quite that bizarre. Her look intensified when Anne gave her a wink, something that always used to annoy Jackie. But before Anne could say anything more, Gilbert appeared from around a corner, looking exasperated.

“She won’t listen to me,” he huffed, keeping his voice down but not holding back an eye roll that would’ve gotten him a smack from Mary. 

“I told you,” Anne mumbled.

“I think she’s going to remember soon that I arrived here with a wife,” Gilbert said sardonically, making Anne huff and pop up from the stairs, ignoring Gilbert’s helping hand.

“Alright, alright,” she sighed before turning to the little girl that was silently watching them, confusion still overtaking her expression. “Thank you for your time…?”

The girl blinked then said, “Uh. Agnes.”

“Agnes,” Anne said with a smile, seeing Gilbert nod to her in greeting beside her. She gave Agnes a wave and then let Gilbert lead her off to the matron’s office, making a show of wiping the back of her dress to get any dirt off and maybe hearing an aborted giggle from behind her.

Once in the office, after insisting that  _ no _ , they were not in the market for anything still in diapers, Anne brought up her find.

“Tell me about Agnes,” Anne said firmly.

“No, no,” the matron dismissed immediately as she pulled out a few files from another stack. “There’s a lovely girl that just arrived—”

“Agnes,” Anne said again, louder, causing the matron to look up and meet Anne’s hard stare.

The woman glanced at Gilbert who gave a polite smile and said, “Dark hair, maybe nine years old?”

“I am trying to save you the trouble—”

“What trouble?” Anne asked, her tone and smile unnervingly even.

“That one never lasts more than a few months,” the matron sighed before reaching behind her and pulling out a file from beneath a box. She opened it and nodded in confirmation. “Four was her longest.”

“Was there a problem with each of those homes?” Gilbert asked, still polite but still leaving no room for arguments next to Anne’s firmness.

“They all said the girl gave them all sorts of problems,” the matron said, sounding unconcerned. “She always wanted to come back.”

“For what reason?” Gilbert asked curiously.

“I do not know,” the matron brushed off. “What about a little boy—”

“Did you ask her?” Anne asked suddenly.

“Ask her what?” the matron asked, looking like she had no idea what Anne was talking about.

“Why she always wanted to come back.”

“She does not say much—”

“I’ll ask her, then,” Anne said, standing.

She left the matron and Gilbert in the office as she exited the room and found Agnes still on the stairs.

“Agnes,” Anne said, startlingly the girl. Anne gave her a patient smile. “Could you join us for a moment, please?”

Agnes briefly looked like she was going to argue, or run, but trudged down the stairs anyway and followed Anne into the matron’s office. The room only had two seats on the visiting side of the desk, so Gilbert stood and gestured for Agnes to sit beside Anne, which she did… slowly.

“Agnes,” Anne started, watching as the girl hunched over and made herself appear smaller in the adult-sized chair. “Would you mind telling us why you have not found any previous homes acceptable? There is no incorrect answer, I promise.”

Agnes looked like she didn’t believe Anne but shrunk further under the matron’s gaze. When she looked again at Anne, and Anne smiled back, she mumbled, “I wanted to be with my brother.”

Anne blinked. She looked up at Gilbert. Then back at the girl.

“Thank you,” Anne said and Agnes took it as a dismissal and scurried out of the room. Anne then turned to look at the matron and made no move to hide how unimpressed she was. “Brother?”

“She’s a twin,” the matron said. 

“And they keep being separated?” Gilbert asked, incredulously.

“Most couples want a boy  _ or _ a girl, not twins, and definitely not both at the same time,” the matron defended.

“What is his name?” Anne asked.

“Andrew,” the matron supplied and Anne had to bite the inside of her cheek, hard, to keep from laughing at the irony.

“How long have they been here?” Gilbert asked.

The matron flipped open the file again and adjusted her glasses as she looked at the papers. “They were brought here at age four,” she said.

“Are their parents alive?” Gilbert asked, making Anne’s hand clench a fistful of her skirts.

“I believe one was at the time of surrender,” the matron allowed before closing the file again. “It does not state an explanation.”

“May we have whatever paperwork we need to fill out?” Anne asked, her eyes not leaving the matron’s as Gilbert’s hand came to rest on her shoulder after he moved behind her, still standing.

“For Agnes?” the matron asked, absently pulling a piece of paper out of a drawer.

“For both,” Anne said firmly, giving the matron a pleasant but sure smile.

Wisely, the matron chose not to question their decision and helped them do what was required of them so they could take the twins with them that very day. It wasn’t until Anne was standing with Gilbert near the front door, and the children were being ushered their way with a single bag between them, that Anne felt the nerves alight in her stomach. Not knowing how the day was going to go had allowed her not to fret too much beforehand, but now things were real and she was excited, but so scared. This wasn’t something they could mess up. Not with the fragility painted on the mirrored faces staring up at them from beneath dark, scruffy hair. 

Anne tried to give them both a reassuring smile, reassured herself by Gilbert’s familiar hand warmly holding onto hers. They then led the children towards the coach they had hired in the hopes that the day would go well and they would want to have time to talk without being distracted by driving. Gilbert helped everyone up and into the space perfectly designed for four before getting in himself and knocking on the wall to signal that they were ready to depart.

As a teacher, Anne was quite good at breaking any permeating silences, but she knew this was a special case and not the usual quiet of a child that didn’t know the answer to the question because they hadn’t done their homework.

“My name is Anne,” Anne started, unconsciously leaning into the way Gilbert’s side pressed against hers as they sat as close as possible on the coach bench. “This is Gilbert.”

“Agnes,” Agnes said, her eyes so obviously studying every one of their movements. She then elbowed her brother, making Anne smile.

“Andrew,” he said after being prompted, appearing to be the quieter one as he glanced between them and his hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Anne said genuinely. “I hope you two feel the same. Eventually.”

“Please feel free to ask us any questions. At any time,” Gilbert said patiently, making Anne reach for his hand so she could hold it in hers in her lap.

“Where are we going?” Agnes asked, raising her chin.

“To our home. In Avonlea,” Gilbert answered. “We live on an orchard, with our family. There is plenty of space for you two to play, even if we might be a bit tight inside, unfortunately.”

“We were not anticipating twins,” Anne said honestly, meeting Agnes’ eye. “But we are very happy to keep you two together.”

“We’re… staying together?” Agnes asked, hesitantly.

“Of course,” Anne promised. She watched as Agnes and Andrew shared a look.

“What’s a orchard?” Andrew asked quietly, speaking up for the first time.

“Good question,” Anne said with a smile. “It’s a farm that grows apples on apple trees.”

“Are we gonna hafta pick the apples?” Agnes asked accusingly.

“Not as a job, no,” Gilbert said. “But you can pick an apple for yourself, if you’d like. Although you might not be able to reach quite yet.”

“Why us?” Agnes asked, crossing her arms and reminding Anne of Jackie with her obvious distrust for the world.

“Anne and I were both orphans,” Gilbert explained. “We understand the position you are in. Our only intentions are to give you a home that you will be happy in. Instead of being separated or being in the asylum.”

“I grew up in a place much like where we just left. And I also was moved around to various placements. Usually to work,” Anne said, watching as both children mulled over this. “I know how it feels. But hopefully you won’t feel like that any longer.”

Agnes started to chew on her thumbnail but no one made any moves to stop her. She studied the two adults before looking at her brother again. She then asked, “What happened?”

“To what?” Anne asked.

“To you. Did you grow up an’ leave?” Agnes asked.

“No,” Anne said evenly. “I ran away instead. When I was thirteen.”

Agnes looked surprised and her eyes cut to Gilbert.

“I ran away, too. Hopped on a boat. Traveled the world,” he shrugged.

“Did you get caught?” Andrew whispered.

“No one was looking for me,” Gilbert said, shrugging again and then looking to Anne.

“I was able to evade notice until I was eighteen,” Anne answered.

“How?” Agnes asked, suspicious.

“I cut my hair and pretended to be a boy,” Anne said, patiently smiling as two little mouths dropped open in front of them.

“A boy?!” Andrew blurted, startled.

“A very cute one,” Gilbert muttered, chuckling when Anne reached over to pinch him in retaliation. 

“You saw me for all of a second,” Anne scoffed.

“I saw you more than once,” Gilbert teased. “You were easy to spot.”

“I was not,” Anne argued petulantly. “No one else spotted me.”

“No one else was looking,” Gilbert grinned, giving her a wink that made her roll her eyes.

“And then what?” Andrew whispered, leaning forward like he was caught in the interesting tale, not appearing as suspicious as his sister.

“And then I met Gilbert—”

“And then she studied hard to pass her college entrance exams and then went on to get her teaching certificate so she could be the best teacher on the island,” Gilbert said proudly, making Anne roll her eyes again. 

“Teacher?” Anges asked, frowning.

“I teach the younger children in Avonlea,” Anne said.

“Are… are we gonna go to school, then?” Anges asked, unsure.

“Of course,” Anne said simply.

“But…”

“We’ll help you catch up in no time. If necessary,” Anne assured with a smile. “And you two will have each other. And Delphine. And I’ll be your teacher. So you there won’t be any reason to be too nervous about school, once you go. You won’t be alone.”

“And you won’t be the only children in the house,” Gilbert said, like he hoped that would be a comfort. “We live with my brother and his wife and their daughter, Delphine. She’s about three years younger than you two.”

“Do… do we need to clean for them?” Agnes asked slowly as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop and not letting Anne’s tales distract her.

“We all try to clean up after ourselves,” Anne said delicately. “But you are not going to be working for us, in any capacity. We’d love it if you eventually saw Delphine as a cousin. And her parents could be Uncle Bash and Aunt Mary, if you are comfortable with calling them that.”

“What do we call you, then?” Agnes frowned.

“Whatever you are comfortable with,” Gilbert said. “Our first names, if you’d like.”

“Not ‘mother’ and ‘father’?” Andrew asked hesitantly.

Anne bit her lip and glanced at Gilbert, her hand still firmly holding onto his. 

“Only whatever you are comfortable with,” Anne repeated even though the idea of the twins liking them enough, relaxing around them enough, to call them that made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“But that is what we’d like to be, for both of you,” Gilbert said in answer to the unmoving looks of hesitation on the kids’ faces. 

“Why didn’t you get a baby?” Agnes blurted out.

“Everyone wants a baby,” Anne said, repeating Agnes’ words back to her. “But not everyone wants nine-year-old twins.”

“But we do,” Gilbert added.

“I know how it feels, to be in your shoes. And I’m now in a position to change that, for the two of you,” Anne said softly. “To give you a home that it took me much, much longer to find.”

“We know it will take some getting used to, but we hope you like it.”

“And want to be there, with us,” Anne said truthfully. She could only hope she could convey to these children that they were wanted. And she hoped they wanted to be there in return.

Neither twin said anything and Anne allowed the silence, knowing it would take time to process all of this. She leaned her head on Gilbert’s shoulder, feeling her own shoulders relax a touch when he kissed the top of her head like she knew he would. She watched as Agnes pulled her legs up to her chest and twisted to face the window and Andrew did similar on his side. It was the beginning of summer and there was plenty to look at as they drove past, the sound of the wheels and hooves propelling them forward making somewhat soothing background noises. In no time, they would arrive at the orchard and be able to introduce their two new additions to their new home and new family. Anne could only cross her fingers and hope that it would go well enough for her not to wake up to empty beds and children that would rather follow her lead and run away than stay there. But they were together and Anne knew she couldn’t possibly fathom how much of a gift that was, having spent all her childhood on her own. She could only hope it put them all on the right foot. Because she wanted it to go well. Because she wanted them. And wanted them to be happy, because she was happy to have them.


	15. just looking for the next fork in the road

Something touched her and her hard flinch woke her up, the pillow the only thing keeping her from hitting her head on the headboard.

“Sorry,” a voice said as her eyes snapped open and Anne realized, quickly like a car crash, where she was and who was speaking.

“Marilla,” Anne groaned, her body melting back onto her bed as her eyes closed against her pounding headache.

Marilla gently moved some of her tangled hair out of her face and Anne relaxed even further at the gesture, at the physical connection to this place, this person, that had  _ just _ been in her dreams for much too long.

“What time is it?” Anne mumbled, senses honing in on the feel of Marilla’s fingers in her hair and Marilla’s body weight on the edge of the bed.

“It’s morning,” Marilla said. “But you’ve been asleep since the day before yesterday.”

“Then why am I still tired,” Anne managed through a yawn, opening her eyes just to squint at the Marilla-shaped blob before her.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Marilla said before reaching over to pick something up from the nightstand. “I brought you water, surely you need it. And there’s food downstairs, if you feel up to it.”

Hazarding a guess that dehydration was just part of why her head felt like it was being hammered with rocks, Anne forced herself into a somewhat upright position and took the glass from Marilla with what may have been an indecipherable “thank you.”

“You also had a visitor yesterday,” Marilla said and it was only because Anne knew her so well that she could tell Marilla was practically gossiping with her.

Anne just furrowed her brow in confusion as she chugged half the glass of water like she had crossed the desert instead of a snow-laden North America. She just gave Marilla a baffled look while forcing herself to lower the glass so she could breath.

“Imagine my surprise when I found Gilbert Blythe on my doorstep, back in Avonlea and asking after you, no less,” Marilla said loftily, making Anne snort.

“Didn’t realize I had met a celebrity,” Anne huffed, starting to drink again but making herself take smaller sips (and hoping her cheeks were too flushed from sleep to reveal any sort of blush).

“He dropped off what he said was your bag. He also said you had been traveling together,” Marilla said, emotion starting to leak into her words. “I’m glad you weren’t alone, Anne.”

Anne lowered the glass again, eyes growing a bit distant as she looked down at the clear water left in the cups she knew Marilla had inherited from her mother (because she had been more than a little upset when Anne dropped one while using it as her magic goblet).

“I was, for a bit,” Anne admitted slowly before blinking and looking back at Marilla who was watching her carefully. “But then I ran into Gilbert and Dellie. And somehow they were on their way to Avonlea too…”

“I didn’t realize his house was occupied again. We’ve tried to keep to ourselves as much as we can,” Marilla sighed, glancing towards the window to the murky and gray outside world. “I suppose it would be good to have neighbors through all of this.”

“I’m so glad his family is alright,” Anne said, her hitch in her voice catching Marilla’s attention just as Anne caught her hand. “And I’m so glad mine is too. I… I was so worried…”

“So were we,” Marilla whispered, as if that could convey the tortured minutes, hours, days of not knowing.

At the sight of Anne’s tears, Marilla wasted no thought on doing anything other than immediately pulling her into a hug. 

(All they had on hand to heal themselves were touch and time.)

* * *

Gilbert heard the creak of the floorboards, so a hand settling on his shoulder didn’t surprise him, but it did bring him out of his reverie. He had no idea how long he had been standing there, just a step inside the kitchen in the house in which he had grown up. It looked the same, but different, but also so foreign and unfamiliar. It was warm and alive and it felt like a dream, like it was just on the edge of being real. After so long… he was home. And he wasn’t alone. Would he be able to believe it, given time?

“Dellie is still out,” Bash said, keeping his voice low as if he could sense the odd mood Gilbert was in as he moved around him to figure out something for breakfast.

Gilbert blinked, almost mechanically watching Bash move around the kitchen, a piece of his present mixing with his past. 

“I don’t think she missed getting a full night’s sleep this whole time. No matter what happened,” Gilbert said before his brow furrowed.

“What?” Bash asked in response to his change in expression, setting down a pan and stepping towards Gilbert.

“I… I did my best,” Gilbert said suddenly, looking at Bash as if he was pleading with him, his voice matching the almost wild look in his eyes. “W-whatever I could do, I did it. She never… never saw anything, I swear. N-no bodies or anything! She’s so— Bash, she’s so fucking small, out in that world that just w-wants to… ruin her. A-and she… I had so many nightmares about it all getting to her, but somehow it didn’t and I would’ve given my  _ life _ —”

And Gilbert only realized he was crying, words choked out through sobs, when he was suddenly crushed to Bash’s chest and given the opportunity to break down, releasing everything that had been bottled up for his sake and Delphine’s. He had managed one foot in front of the other, over and over, just for her. And he got her to where she needed to be. Somehow.

And Bash held onto Gilbert like he had no words to express his gratitude for his brother bringing his daughter back to him, alive and whole, unlike anything else around them.

* * *

Anne met him at the fence.

She leaned against it, arms crossed over the top, like she used to do with Diana.

As she watched Gilbert walk up to her on the other side she had to press her mouth against her arms to hide her smile. Seeing him for the first time in a few days, after never parting from him for so long, felt like a small ray of light amidst all the usual fog. Especially when he looked at her like that.

“You look nice today,” Gilbert said once he reached the part of the fence on which she was waiting.

“Does that mean I don’t look nice every day?” Anne asked, unable to help herself, raising an eyebrow at him.

Gilbert’s ears turned red, but not from the cold even though he forgot his hat. “I—”

“I suppose being able to bathe, brush my hair, and sleep for over 36 hours helps a bit,” Anne allowed, tossing her braid over her shoulder and letting her smirk show how much she was mocking him.

Gilbert huffed but didn’t hide his smile as he stepped forward. “More than a bit,” he said, teasing her just a little as he leaned an elbow onto a post, bringing him so much closer so he could catch every detail of her blush spread across her cheeks.

“Are you glad to be home?” Anne asked, voice a whisper since it didn’t have to travel far, her eyes taking in the flecks of color in his.

“Yes. But it still feels like a dream if I think about it too hard,” Gilbert said softly, hand absently touching the edge of her warm, obviously handmade scarf. 

“Don’t think too hard, then,” Anne said, lightly and easily, as if she didn’t have the same problem and he didn’t know it.

“Are you having any nightmares?” Gilbert asked.

Anne shook her head. “I’ve only had one dream. That I remember.”

“Was it a good one?”

“Yes.”

“What was it about?”

“You.”

“So it was  _ really _ good,” Gilbert said, making her laugh.

“Do you think that highly of yourself?” Anne asked, head tilting with her sarcastic smile.

“Well, you did just tell me not to think,” Gilbert said before leaning forward, turning her laugh into a surprised squeak as he crossed the barrier to kiss her like he had wanted to as soon as he saw her across the grounds, the brightest thing visible as far as he could see.

And Anne melted into the kiss like a snowflake landing on exposed skin, unable to hold itself together when facing that kind of warm. 

This felt like a dream too, but she knew it was real. She knew she had to appreciate this piece of life she had found from the wreckage of the world, this positive addition to a long list of loss and destruction. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her and smiled at her, didn’t feel too good to be true. It felt real because it was a balm for the pain that would never go away. But pain is for the living and that is what Anne chose to do as she tugged Gilbert closer and smiled into their kiss.

(Until they had to separate because they were interrupted by a giggling five-year-old and her father who looked much too ready to give his brother shit for what he was just caught doing, and that felt more normal than either had felt in a long time.)


	16. just looking for the next fork in the road

In the midst of Gilbert’s family formerly introducing themselves, Delphine threw herself into Anne’s arms as soon as her name was said.

“Anne!” Delphine squealed.

Anne let out a laugh in surprise as she staggered a bit in the snow, but she expertly caught the little girl and settled her on her hip, waving away Bash’s attempt to retrieve her.

“Princess Dellie,” Anne greeted, realizing how much she had taken Delphine and her contagious smiles for granted.

“I missed you,” Delphine informed her solemnly and Anne felt like this child could melt all the ice in the world with her pouts.

“I missed you too,” Anne said, squeezing Delphine to her and getting a tight hug in return. “You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you! You have to be what, twelve now, right?"

Delphine giggled, pulling back and shaking her head so her hair puffs bounced. “Nooo!”

“I’ve been asleep for seven years so that has to be right,” Anne said seriously as she began leading everyone towards Green Gables through the gray slush, and missing the look Bash was giving Gilbert as they followed behind.

“This is a lovely home,” Mary said as they approached the door.

Anne turned to give her a beaming smile that just as quickly faltered. “Um. I was going to say you should see it in the spring,” she said, her smile wan.

“I’m sure it’s just as lovely,” Mary assured her, giving Anne a light touch to her elbow.

Gilbert then stepped ahead so he could open the door for Anne, still holding Delphine.

“Thanks,” Anne said, giving him a suspicious look that rivaled the unimpressed one he got from his brother.

Marilla and Matthew were both in the kitchen when they entered and another round of introductions took a turn in the room.

“It’s nice to know we have neighbors once more,” Marilla said but her words touched a nerve.

(The group went quiet as it hit everyone how odd it was, to be doing something like this, almost a dinner party, with the world the way it was. But each person intimately knew loneliness, save for the youngest and brightest, and knew to not squander such an opportunity. These kinds of connections were more important now than ever and they needed to be fostered, watered, and treated with gentle touches, like the flowers and plants that no longer existed. The world just beyond the threshold held nothing for them, so all they had were each other. The ground on which they stood couldn’t care less about their lives, so they needed to fight for their humanity, because that force that dictated whether they lived or died didn’t care for their names or histories or relationships. They had to care enough to make themselves heard; for they were there because they wanted to be, because they existed and had the right to keep doing so, to keep their connections tethered and grounded and thriving.)

When they sat at the table, and Marilla served what she had, Delphine insisted on sitting with Anne.

“Sweetheart, Anne probably wants to sit in her chair by herself,” Mary tried.

“It’s alright,” Anne said, lifting Delphine into her lap so they were both facing the table, Anne’s arms around her. “Just for special occasions, right, Dellie?”

“And birthdays,” Delphine insisted, which Anne couldn’t argue with.

“Of course.”

“And sleepovers.”

“I don’t think you’ve had a sleepover, Dellie,” Bash pointed out.

“Uncle Gilby and Anne have,” Delphine said with certainty.

Gilbert started to choke on the sip of water he just took as Bash burst out laughing. Anne’s cheeks burned so quickly that her eyes felt hot and she had to cover her face with her hands so she wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

“You made sure she didn’t learn about anything bad this whole time, but you couldn’t stop her from learning about that,” Bash managed through what were definitely giggles, Mary even trying to hide her smile behind her hand.

“I can’t say I miss the quiet,” Anne heard Marilla murmur to Matthew, who looked like he wanted to disappear.

(But Anne’s embarrassment just reminded her of the blood in her veins, making her heart beat faster as it reminded everyone that she was alive, just as much as Bash’s laughter signaled his own presence of life.) 

(Existence was messy, but it was crucial.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, idek. 
> 
> Writing all of these fics really helped keep my mind busy while I tried to do my part during this crisis and kept my ass at home and just kept doing my job and watched atla.  
> Now, that crisis is still going on... amidst all the bullshit that has existed since the beginning of the US and all of history and won't go away as long as there are those so willing to resort to violence and murder to uphold the status quo. It's hard to know what to do, but this isn't something that allows for the same kind of distraction that we've been clinging to for the last few months...
> 
> Idk. Go donate to some of the bail funds, if you can. Don't close your eyes, if you can.


End file.
